


The Sword of Robin

by WatchTheAntagonist



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Magic, Big Brother Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Bruce Wayne is a Good Dad, Damian Wayne is Robin, Dick Grayson is Batman, Gen, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-14 12:23:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13589994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WatchTheAntagonist/pseuds/WatchTheAntagonist
Summary: Weapon Mages have the ability to manifest their souls as a weapon, either to wield themselves or partner with someone else to amplify their power. Robin has always been Batman's weapon. The only problem is, that kind of bond requires trust. And, trust is not something Damian Wayne has a lot of experience with.





	1. Robin is a Weapon

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in an alternate universe where mages, once they are awakened after a traumatic event, are able to manifest their soul as a weapon. In order to increase their powers, they can fully become their weapon and have a partner wield them, a bond that requires a lot of trust. Think Soul Eater or Noragami if you've seen either of those shows. This is set not long after Damian becomes Dick's Robin, and will probably be about four chapters. I'll try to update weekly. This is my first fanfiction, so feedback would be much appreciated. Hope you enjoy!

                Robin was a weapon. Damian had understood that. He had read about his father’s former partners, done all the research he could in order to be prepared to take their place. To become the true Robin, and eventually take over the mantle of Batman. This was his destiny. He had never questioned it, never felt the need to. So, he had trained for years in preparation. Then, it had all fallen apart, and he was left scrambling over what to do with a Batman who wasn’t his father.

                Damian sat alone in the cave, trying to make himself look busy. Not that there was anyone around to see him, but Grayson would probably be returning any minute. Damian was surprised that the call had lasted so long. There didn’t seem to be any reason for Grayson to need to converse with Drake, not after Drake had made his opinions very clear. Besides, Damian was here to fulfill the role of Robin for the new Batman.

                “Dami, what are you doing down here?” Grayson asked, right after Damian had identified the approaching footsteps and had hastily closed his sketchbook. He had been staring at the same page for the last half an hour. A rough sketch of Batman holding a katana.

                “Tt,” Damian said, not giving an excuse. He didn’t have any reason to defend himself. After all, it wasn’t like he had been waiting for Grayson to finish the call, to come back to him.

                “You need to talk to me, kiddo,” Grayson said, his voice sounding tenser than it had since Damian had met him. “I know I’m not Bruce, but if this is going to work you have to. . .”

                “Of course our partnership is going to work,” Damian snapped, cursing himself for sounding defensive. “Even you, who professes to favor non-fatal wounds, have determined that I am better suited for the role of Robin than Drake. A katana is a more suitable weapon for Batman than a staff.”

                “Damian,” Grayson sighed. His shoulders slumped and Damian realized suddenly that this was one of the few times that he had seen Grayson without a smile on his face. Grayson rubbed a hand on his collarbone, probably without realizing that he was doing it and Damian tensed further. He had only seen Grayson summon his weapon outside of his Nightwing uniform once, but that had been enough for him to get a good look at the glowing symbols that marked every partner Grayson had worked with. It had been enough for Damian to deduce the red ‘R’ on his collarbone, invisible now, had been a sign belonging to Drake. “That’s not what this is about.”

                “I know,” Damian said. He stood us so that he didn’t feel like Grayson was looking down on him. He resisted the urge to try to curl into himself and forced his shoulders back as he stood as straight as he could. It had been stupid of him to think that Grayson hadn’t noticed how he had been keeping his distance. How he’d been slipping away during battles, fighting on his own. How, though Grayson had yet to bring it up, he knew that it was only a matter of time before his inexperience in working as another’s weapon was revealed. “I am prepared to fulfil my duties as Robin and become your sword.”

                “What?” Grayson cocked his head to the side in confusion, but Damian interrupted him before he could continue whatever objections he might have.

                “I am aware that my performance as Robin has not fulfilled your expectation. Though I have trained since birth to be able to manifest and wield my Soul Weapon to the highest degree of efficiency, I do not have the. . .expertise in bonding with another to amplify that power. However, I am sure that I will quickly gain the skills necessary to. . .”

                “Wait, hold up for a second. Is that why you’ve been running off on your own on patrols? Because you are worried about me summoning you as my weapon?” Grayson crouched down so that he was at Damian’s eye level.

                “Of course not!” Damian interjected. “I was just. . .waiting. To be sure that you would be an adequate replacement for my father.”

                “Hey, hey. Just listen to me for a second, okay? I know it’s not exactly your favorite thing to do, but. . .” Grayson said. Damian scoffed, but nodded. “You don’t have to become a weapon for me.”

                “Tt,” Damian said, looking away and trying his best to pretend that wasn’t exactly what he had been afraid of. He had overheard enough of what Drake and Grayson had been talking about on the phone. How some of the threats in Gotham were too big for a Weapon Mage to handle with only their own power. “If you think that Drake would be a better replacement, just because you have worked with him in the past, then you are more of a fool than I thought you were.”

                “Damian, this isn’t about you or Tim being better,” Grayson said.

                “Of course not. That would be a pointless discussion, as the answer is obvious,” Damian said. Grayson sighed.

                “Okay. I feel like we are having two entirely different conversations,” Grayson said. “Damian, I’m not firing you.”

                “You’re not?” Damian said. He caught the surprise in his voice and quickly amended it. “Of course not. That would be absurd.”

                “Yep. Firing Robin hasn’t really been known to work well in the past, either,” Grayson said. “I was just trying to figure out why you seem to be avoiding me, but if I’m inferring right, than I guess I need to tell you that it’s okay.”

                “What?”

                “I’m not sure what training you did with the League, exactly, but it doesn’t sound like you really get how partnering with another Weapon Mage works. Or, at the very least, how I believe it should work,” Grayson said. He ran his hand through his hair, messing it up even further. “It’s about trust.”

                “And you don’t trust me,” Damian stiffened.

                “You don’t trust me,” Grayson corrected. Damian looked up, startled. He wasn’t sure if that statement was accurate. From what he had seen of Grayson he was. . .adequate. Damian realized that he probably trusted Grayson as much as he trusted anyone. But, maybe that was the problem.

                “That doesn’t seem to be relevant,” Damian complained, trying to shift the focus. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear what Grayson was going to say next.

                “Hear me out, okay? It takes a lot of faith in a person to put yourself totally in their control and transform into a weapon for them. You know, I’ve partnered with a lot of people. I’m compatible with most everyone, and it works out. I choose to trust people. That’s worked out a lot of the time. But, sometimes it hasn’t. Sometimes it’s turned on me, and gotten really bad,” Grayson said. He sat down on the floor in front of Damian, his shoulders slouched like he was carrying the weight of the world. Damian marveled at the display of weakness. It felt wrong. It wasn’t the Grayson he had become accustomed to. “I guess, what I’m trying to say is that I get it. Putting your trust in someone, especially so completely, can be kind of intimidating.”

                “Are you insinuating that I am afraid?” Damian bristled, but Grayson shook his head.

                “No. I know what I do doesn’t work for everyone. So, that’s why, it’s okay if you’re not ready to become my weapon. It’s okay if you need more time. It’s okay if you never decide that you are ready for that. I’m not going to force you to do something you aren’t ready for. You’re still my Robin, and nothing is going to change that,” Grayson said. He smiled, but it wasn’t the blinding smile that he wore at almost every turn. It was softer, smaller, sadder maybe, but more real. Damian met Grayson’s eyes. Grayson didn’t look away. Damian wasn’t sure how he would have reacted if he did.

                “Robin is supposed to be Batman’s weapon,” Damian said. His voice was less sure than he would have liked.

                “Well, that’s us, now. So, whatever Batman and Robin are supposed to be, that’s up to us to decide,” Grayson said. He stood up and reached out his hand for Damian to shake it. “Okay, partner?”

                “Okay.”


	2. Robin is a Partner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you to everyone who read the first chapter. I finished this sooner than expected and figured I'd go ahead and post it. Not totally in love with the ending, but whatever. This takes place a few months into Dick and Damian's partnership, so there's a bit of a time gap from the first chapter. Next chapter might be up as soon as next Monday, depending on how productive I am this weekend, and will focus more on Dick. Hope you enjoy!

Damian was waiting for Grayson to go back on his word. At first, he had anticipated it with a kind of almost glee. Something to hold over Grayson, rub in his face and point out the flaw. Watch guilt appear on Grayson’s face at the mention of the old promise. Damian had planned to lord the mistake over him, point out that Grayson could not possibly be capable of being Batman if he was unable to keep a simple promise.

                Weeks later, Grayson still hadn’t even brought up the idea of Damian becoming his Soul Weapon. They had been working together, fighting side by side as Batman and Robin, and Grayson hadn’t even asked if Damian thought he was ready yet. Damian was still waiting for the moment Grayson ordered him into battle, but he wasn’t looking forward to it anymore. He had come to the conclusion that Grayson had meant his promise when he first uttered it, that was the only logical explanation for why it had lasted so long.

                After that, Damian began to dread when Grayson broke his promise. It was sure to happen eventually. It may not even be Grayson’s fault. After all, as much as Damian hated to admit it, Drake was right when he pointed out that some of Gotham’s threats are too dangerous for a Weapon Mage working without the amplification a partner brings to easily face. Damian knew that, if such an occasion were to occur, he would answer Grayson’s call. Grayson would probably feel guilty about it, as well. But, that didn’t change things. A broken promise was still a broken promise.

                Damian had experienced enough broken promises for a lifetime.

                As even more time passed without Grayson calling upon him, a part of Damian might have begun to start to hope that he would. If only when they were facing someone, or some _thing_ in the case of the corrupted Weapon Mage they had fought that afternoon, Killer Croc.

                “You could have defeated that monstrosity easily if you had a Soul Weapon to amplify,” Damian stated, walking up behind Grayson. The man was dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt, his hair still damp from the shower he had taken when they had first arrived back at the cave. He was sporting a new bruise on his jaw that he couldn’t seem to stop himself from occasionally poking.

                “Maybe,” Grayson said offhandedly, though Damian hadn’t been asking a question. He could tell that Grayson wasn’t really paying attention to Damian’s words, not while trying to dig through years of recorded cases on about three hours of sleep. If he had been listening carefully, he probably would have noted that Damian had brought the topic up, the first time since their initial conversation.

                “What’s it like?” Damian said after a long pause. Grayson hesitated in his frantic typing and looked up to meet Damian’s eyes. Or, tried to meet them, at least. Damian was focused on not looking at Grayson.

                “It varies a lot from person to person,” Grayson said after a moment of thought. Damian scowled. “Sorry I can’t give you a better answer than that.”

                “I shouldn’t be surprised that you are unable to provide me with adequate information,” Damian scoffed. He clenched his hands behind his back to keep himself from fiddling with his cape. “I suppose. . . I suppose that I will have to find out for myself.”

                “I think that’s a good attitude to have,” Grayson said. Damian waited, but he didn’t say anything further. Damian shuffled his feet, then stopped himself. Trained assassins do not fidget.

                “Could. . .maybe. . .” Damian muttered to his feet. He was fairly certain that Grayson hadn’t heard him, as there was no response. He didn’t look up at Grayson, didn’t look to see his expression. “When are you going to ask me to be your weapon?”

                “Never. I told you that I wasn’t going to, not unless you wanted to,” Grayson said casually, as if he wasn’t constantly forcing Damian to reevaluate what he wanted, what he expected from others, and who he was.

                “Do you not want to partner with me?” Damian said, his voice smaller than he intended for it to be. He stared intently at his shoes. He waited for an answer. Grayson didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then, he laughed. Damian’s head shot up, color rising in his cheeks.

                “D, how did you even get that idea?” Grayson said. Damian scowled at him, but didn’t swat away his hand quite as forcefully as he could have when it reached out to ruffle his hair. “I was trying not to pressure you, but if you want to give it a try I’m game.”

                Damian growled and shrugged. A month ago, Grayson would have just shrugged, assumed that Damian was done talking, and moved on to another subject. After working with him, however, he was able to catch on to the slight hints that Damian was unconsciously providing him. Damian watched him puzzle it out, trying to pick up the hints his body language provided. Sure, Damian could probably have made it easier. He could have _said_ what he wanted, for starters. But, the words seemed to catch in his throat.

                “Dami, did you want to try out being my weapon?” Grayson asked. Damian could tell that the older man was purposefully keeping his body language open, silently avoiding putting any pressure on Damian. It had been that way since they began working together. At first, Damian had resented it. How was he supposed to improve as a warrior with a mentor that didn’t put pressure on him? It hadn’t been how his mother had acted, and it surely wasn’t how his father had trained him. Slowly, he had come to appreciate Grayson’s attitude. He continued to fight hard, not because Grayson was forcing him to, but because he wanted to.

                “Tt. It might be an idea worth experimenting,” Damian said, stalking over to the training mats so he didn’t have to meet Grayson’s eyes.

                “Alright,” Grayson said, trailing him. “Awaken your powers first, then I’ll do the same and we can try summoning you as my weapon.”

                Damian took a deep breath and reached inside his mind instinctively he reached out, like he would when he was forming his soul into a katana for his own use. Instead, he felt a sort of pull. He glanced over at Grayson, who had also activated his powers and hesitated. Grayson wasn’t in costume, so Damian could see some of the glowing emblems left by other weapon partners he had worked with. There were a lot. Damian tried not to dwell on the fact that he didn’t have any.

                “Ready?” Grayson asked. Damian nodded. He closed his eyes and gave into the gentle tugging. It felt like summoning his weapon usually did, like a part of himself was transforming into something solid, except this time it was all of him, including his physical form. He didn’t fight against it, that would be dishonorable after he had been the one to push for trying this. He let himself go, and. . .

                And he was falling. There wasn’t anything underneath him, nothing that even hinted that the fall would ever stop. He wanted to scream, but he didn’t have a physical form to do so. He wanted to struggle, to try to reach out and grab something, but there wasn’t anything there. He wasn’t there, not really, it was just in his mind. It was just in his mind. But he was still falling.

                Until he wasn’t. Damian felt a pair of hand grasp his wrists. He focused on the hands, not on the horrifying drop that seemed to want him to fall. They were calloused from experience and scarred, but still firm. _Grayson_. He wasn’t going to fall.

                All of a sudden, he wasn’t falling. He was flying. And becoming something else. He felt himself form into the katana that was his Soul Weapon when he hesitated. No, that was wrong. Grayson wouldn’t want a katana, wouldn’t want a sword that had been used to kill. He had to become something different, he had to. . .

                _It’s okay, Damian, just be yourself._

                He could almost feel Grayson ruffling his hair as he heard the voice in his mind. He let himself relax.

                “Yes!” Grayson said, spoken aloud this time. Damian could hear him clearly, just as he could sense without really seeing everything around him in the cave. Including the new mark from their bond on the back of Grayson’s right hand, a black block ‘R.’ He could tell that Grayson was jumping almost giddily, holding his weapon form. He could tell that the katana was slightly longer than his usual form. Electric blue streaks decorated the blade.

                _Your magic, I assume?_ Damian questioned silently. He felt Grayson smile, and knew that Grayson could tell that he was smiling as well.


	3. Soul of a Bat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another time skip before this next chapter. At this point, Bruce is back, but Dick hasn't left to become Nightwing again, yet. This chapter is focused on Dick, but Damian will be back for the final chapter sometime next week. Thanks for reading!

                Dick’s powers as a Weapon Mage had first awakened after his parent’s death. He hadn’t summoned his weapon for the first time until later, though. Unlike Damian, he hadn’t learned how to summon his weapon individually before he had partnered with his Batman. The first time he had been summoned, figuring out what his weapon was, both were moments that defined him. He could still remember it well. Partnering with Bruce had felt like flying, like leaping from a trapeze. When he began to form into a weapon, it was clear to him what he had to become. Sure, it wasn’t a weapon in the traditional sense, but he wasn’t going to let anyone he cared about fall. Never again. So, the first Robin became a grappling hook.

                Everything was great for a while but, as Dick would experience many times, the bond between people can change. Where he once felt like he was flying, it changed to walking on a balance beam, teetering between the light and the dark. Then, it eventually became a tightrope. When it got to the point where he wasn’t sure if Bruce was the tightrope keeping him from falling or if the Batman was the darkness awaiting him below or if it was both he had to leave. Fighting on his own, he needed more of a weapon than a grappling hook, so he formed his soul into escrima sticks. He wasn’t on his own for long, though, and he ended up founding the Teen Titans.

                Dick had been told that it was unusual for a Weapon Mage to become multiple weapons depending on who he was partnered with. A change or maybe two happening throughout his lifetime as his soul develops, especially for someone who awakened as a child, was common, but that was about as much change as usually occurred. Dick however, could become different weapons for everyone he partnered with, becoming something suited to them, something that they needed. This versatility led him to partnering with all of the Titans, and, eventually, nearly everyone in the hero community at one point or another. He loved it. The excitement of trying something new, becoming something new. He trusted easily. But he hadn’t been lying when he told Damian that sometimes that sometimes it hadn’t gone well.

                It was probably his adaptability as a weapon that had drawn Slade to him in the first place. He hadn’t wanted to become the man’s apprentice, but with his friend’s lives on the line he hadn’t had any other choice. Partnering with the man had been like being inside a storm, his will beating down onto Dick, forcing him to become something that he wasn’t. Something that he didn’t want to be. Being a sword in that man’s hands had been awful.

                Dick had been lots of weapons for lots of different people. In Roy’s hands he was a bow and felt like he was walking alongside a friend. For Tim he felt like a guiding hand on a shoulder, and the staff similar to Tim’s own weapon felt right. With Kori he felt warmth and flame and passion; with Babs it was like coming home. Sometimes he had more control over the form than others; Babs still laughed about the time he had become a computer mouse for her after she had become Oracle. Other times it was a complete surprise. He was still baffled by his transformation into a tire iron when Jason held him, though both Jason and Bruce seemed to find it immensely amusing. He had become a gun only once, in Catalina’s hands, with her voice inside him like a poison, whispering that Desmond deserved more than what his escrima sticks could do. For Bruce, when they did still team up, he would become to grappling hook of his childhood and once again step out onto the tightrope.

                Dick took lots of different forms, had many different names, but he was always himself. It was always Dick Grayson behind the mask, even if the mask changed. And, when he was on his own, he always summoned escrima sticks. He thought they were a good match for him. Powerful, but not brutal. Not designed to kill. He could even manipulate his magic in such a way that they delivered an electric shock. They seemed to be a part of him as much as his name was.

                Which is why he was so shocked when he had summoned his weapon idly in the solitude of the cave only to have a batarang appear.

                Dick held the metal bat in front of him mutely, sitting cross-legged on the floor. He wasn’t sure how long he had been there. Damian was probably in bed, and Alfred as well, so no one had interrupted his silent contemplation. He mused on what this meant for him. He had tried _so hard._ He had never wanted the mantle of the Batman. He hadn’t wanted to let it consume him. He had tried to laugh, to smile, to be true to himself. Even if it felt more and more that the jokes and laughter were the mask, not the cowl.

                Dick wondered if Damian ever felt like he was walking on a tightrope.

                Dick started when he heard someone approaching. He whirled around, ready to admonish Damian for being out of bed so late when he remembered. It wasn’t just them anymore. Bruce was back from the dead, back in their lives.

                “Dick? What are you still doing up?” Bruce asked, as if he wasn’t the same. His voice almost sounded like a parent reprehending an unruly child, and Dick instinctively stiffened at being treated as such. He couldn’t seem to muster the energy to complain though, so he just relaxed and shrugged his shoulders.

                “Is everything alright?” Bruce asked, slight creases that hadn’t been there when Dick had been Robin appearing as he frown. Dick opened his mouth to explain, but closed it again when he couldn’t find the words. Instead, he just held up the batarang. Then, he banished it into nothingness, as one can only do with a soul weapon. Bruce’s eyes widened for a moment, in a way that only those who had known him for years would even recognize, but, overall, he didn’t seem overly surprised. “Oh. I see.”

                Dick didn’t move when Bruce walked around behind him. He barely even reacted when the older man sat down next to him on the floor, their shoulders nearly touching.

                “I never wanted this for you,” Bruce said. “It’s my burden. You shouldn’t have to bear it.”

                “Doesn’t matter what you wanted. It’s what I had to do,” Dick said, shrugging.

                “I’m back,” Bruce said, flatly. It was an obvious statement, especially to a trained detective, but for the first time Dick found himself really believing it. “Do you need me back in Gotham?”

                “Yes,” Dick said softly, almost guiltily, after a long pause. Bruce reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.

                “Then I’ll stay,” he said.

                “But, Damian needs me,” Dick said, then cringed when he thought of how that sounded when talking to the boy’s actual father. Bruce didn’t deny it, though.

                “Then be there for him,” Bruce said. “You can do that as Nightwing, as Dick Grayson, just as you could as Batman.” They sat in silence. Dick wasn’t sure how much time passed before he worked up enough courage to summon his weapon again. He sighed in relief when his escrima sticks appeared.

                “Thank you,” he whispered. Bruce didn’t say anything. Just sat there by his side until he was ready to face the world again.


	4. Batman and Robin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter is here! There's another time gap, though not as large. There's also a switch in point of view in the middle. I hope that isn't too confusing.

Bruce wasn’t sure what he had done wrong. All he knew was that Damian was furious with him, and he was not going to call in his eldest son for help after less than a week of working with his youngest. He also knew that, despite his best efforts, he had done something wrong. It didn’t take a genius detective to realize that, just someone with eyes and ears enough to notice that Damian hadn’t emerged from his room all day.

                Which, in all honesty, had taken Bruce longer to realize than it probably should have.

                It wasn’t until he was getting ready to leave for a charity lunch that he realized that he hadn’t actually seen Damian all day. Bruce hadn’t remembered fighting with him over anything the previous night on patrol, but something must have happened. It wasn’t like Damian to remain in his room all day, especially not when he could be training. Could he be ill? Or maybe concealing some injury?

                “Hey, Bruce I wanted to ask you about the case files I was going through. I think there might be some mix-up with the dates or something, otherwise Poison Ivy was inside prison and wreaking havoc at the same time,” Tim said, walking through the door. Bruce looked up from his desk, frowning. He had been contemplating the Damian issue for some time since he had returned from the Wayne foundation lunch and was no closer to finding a solution. Tim took a small step back when he saw his expression. “If now isn’t a good time I can come back later. It’s really not that big of an issue.”

                “No. Now is fine,” Bruce said, standing up to glance over the offered files. He found the error and corrected it, handing it back to Tim.

                “Great, thanks, I’ll just go now,” Tim said. Bruce grunted in reply.

                “Wait,” he said after a moment’s deliberation. How had he not thought of this before? “You know Damian well, correct?”

                “I... wouldn’t say that, exactly,” Tim said hesitantly. Bruce waved dismissively.

                “But you’ve spent more time around him than I have. I need you to go talk to him and find out what’s bothering him,” Bruce said. He nodded, glad to have solved that problem, and turned back to his own casework. He needed to figure out where Scarecrow was hiding before he could strike. Another fear gas issue was the last thing he needed right now, especially with that new gang acting up.

                “I don’t think Damian would be very receptive to that,” Tim said. Bruce looked up, surprised that he hadn’t left yet. “The two of us don’t really get alone well. Or, at all.”

                “Well, he’s been sulking all day,” Bruce grumbled. “Someone needs to talk to him.”

                “Why don’t you just call Dick? I’m sure he’d love to spend some more time with the Demon Brat,” Tim said, sounding more resentful than Bruce had anticipated, but he chose not to deal with that right then and instead focus on the more pressing issue. Tim sighed, seeming to accept that calling Dick wasn’t an option right now. “Maybe something happened on patrol, I don’t know.”

                “It was a fairly ordinary. We stopped some muggers. I did mention to Damian that I wanted him to try out being my weapon soon,” Bruce said, frowning. He had thought that his son would be excited about the prospect and he had intended for it to be a reward for the good work he had done in their time together. Damian however, had just responded with a cold acknowledgement.

                “Well, there’s your issue,” Tim almost chuckled. “Sounds like you need to call Dick in after all. This is totally his fault. Damian didn’t become his weapon for ages.”

                “So, he was fighting as Batman without a properly amplified weapon?” Bruce growled. Dick should have known better than to be so careless. Sure, he was adept at fighting on his own, but there was no need for him to take such unnecessary risks, especially not when he was carrying a burden that Bruce had never wanted for him.

                “Yeah. I tried to convince him not to, but he wouldn’t listen. Anyways, I have to head out now. Good luck,” Tim shrugged and stepped out of the room. Most likely he would see Bruce getting angry and had decided that he wanted no part in another of the infamous arguments that seemed to be brewing. Bruce didn’t watch him leave, just picked up the phone and begin punching in the numbers.

               

                Damian hadn’t been avoiding his father. Not exactly. After all, Father would actually have to be looking for him to classify it as avoiding. And Father wouldn’t be doing that, not after he had angered him with his hesitation on the topic of becoming his father’s weapon. He knew that he was going to be his father’s weapon eventually. He had actually been looking forward to it. But, the way that his father had just casually brought it up. As if it was a given that he would serve in that capacity. As if it wasn’t any sort of a big deal. His father had said that he would be a part of the Robin Legacy. Problem was, Damian felt like that was already his. Or, it had been, at least. Until his Batman left him with someone who was nearly a stranger.

                Grayson had said that it was all about trust. Was there any right way to confess that he didn’t really trust his own father?

                So, he hadn’t been avoiding the problem. Just, waiting for the right time. Or, better yet, waiting for his father to forget about the whole matter. He had heard people enter the manor but didn’t pay them any mind. After all, there was really only one person he might want to talk to. And he wasn’t coming.

                “What the hell were you thinking,” Father roars from downstairs. Damian sits bolt upright, trying to figure out what he had done. Then, he heard another voice from downstairs, less loud than his father’s so he couldn’t make out the words. Of course, he chided himself. There was someone else there who had angered Father. Damian crept out of his room, intent on discovering what exactly was going on before revealing himself. As he approached the living room, he could make out the other voice more clearly.

                “Did you really think that I would force someone who wasn’t completely willing to become my weapon? Me, Bruce?” the other voice said. Grayson. Damian ducked back behind the doorframe of the living room, but not before he caught sight of his former mentor. Grayson had activated his powers, though he didn’t see to be planning on summoning his weapon. He was just holding out his arm, with the sleeve rolled up to reveal a glowing symbol from a previous weapon partner. A red ‘S,’ that looked almost like a bloody gash carved into his arm if it wasn’t for the glow from the magic. Damian didn’t know who that particular sign had come from, and Grayson had never volunteered the information.

                “You’re nothing like him,” Damian’s father said, seeming taken aback. At least he wasn’t shouting anymore.

                “I’m not,” Grayson confirmed. Damian didn’t want to think too much about who ‘he’ was. “And I don’t intend to be.”

                “It wasn’t a sound tactical decision. You need backup in the field, especially when you’re wearing a target like the cowl,” Father said. Grayson just shrugged, but didn’t object. Damian’s heart sank when he realized what they were fighting about. He rounded the corner, determined to put a stop to it.

                “Father, I understand your insistence. I am more than capable of becoming an exemplary weapon,” Damian said, strutting into the room with all the confidence he could muster.

                “Dami,” Grayson said softly, but Damian cut him off.

                “You said that I am ready to be a part of your legacy and fulfill my duty as Robin, and I’m going to prove that you are right in that judgement and. . .” Damian trailed off, not sure what else to say. Grayson looked like he wanted to say something, probably some sentimental nonsense, but he held himself back. He seemed to understand that this was between Damian and his father.

                “You don’t want to become my weapon,” Father said, seeming more confused than anything. Damian hesitated. Not all that long ago, he would have continued on blustering about his capabilities and competency in battle. But now. . .Grayson had listened to his reservations, hadn’t he? Could his father do the same?

                “Not yet,” Damian said hesitantly. He stared down at his feet, not daring to watch his father’s reaction.

                “Well, that settles that,” Grayson said with what Damian now recognized to be overexaggerated cheer. “Dami will tell you when he’s ready.”

                Father still didn’t say anything, and Damian still didn’t look up. He didn’t need to to know that there was a silent but insistent conversation going on between the two men.

                “Alright. Of course, I’ll respect your decision,” Father said. Damian looked up to face him. He looked. . .more confused than angry, actually. Grayson just beamed at him.

                “Thank you, Father,” Damian said. He allowed Grayson to ruffle his hair, just for a moment. After all, he supposed that he did owe the man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first fanfiction has been completed! I would really appreciate feedback. The next fic I have planned is going to be longer, maybe ten chapters or so. It'll be set more in the Young Justice Universe, and will be a different au. First chapter should be up sometime next week. I may come back to this au at some point in the future, maybe something focusing on Tim, but it probably won't be for a while. Please tell me what you thought!


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